


Weigh Me Down

by oper_1895



Series: Sex is just a word (Asexual!Neal) [8]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Asexual Character, Chains, Community: kink_bingo, D/s, M/M, Punishment, kinky not-porn, stress positions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-15
Updated: 2010-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oper_1895/pseuds/oper_1895
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter likes chains, especially on Neal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weigh Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to jumpuphigh and bientot over at dreamwidth for their beta efforts!

Peter liked chains. They used them a lot in their play. While ropes could be more secure, especially for someone as slippery as Neal, the unyielding weight and mass of metal had a certain appeal. They'd tried with the lighter modern manacles, but that was too real for Neal, and too subtle for Peter. So they'd ordered a set of custom made steel restraints for wrists and ankles. There was something so satisfying about having 4 pounds of metal weighing down those clever hands, keeping him slow and heavy.

They were in the dining room. Peter had put Neal, wearing nothing but chains, with his back to the bookcase pillar by the kitchen door. He had spread his files across the kitchen table with the intent of multi-tasking. So far, it wasn't working that well.

"Hands out."

Neal obediently lifted his arms extended them straight out at shoulder height. The chains jangled as Neal struggled to keep his arms steady with muscles already fatigued. After Neal had spent the day antagonizing Peter, Peter had planned for Neal to spend time in Time Out when they got home. And Neal had been there, until Peter had stuck his head into the pitch black closet to check on him, and Neal had looked up, surprised, from where he was reading a book by the light of his tracking anklet.

Which was why Neal was now struggling to hold position, and Peter was now unproductive, distracted by the sight of Neal trying be good and not irritate Peter even more.

"Above your head." Neal huffed, then lifted his arms straight above his head. It was an easier position, and would give him a bit of a break. Also, Peter liked how Neal's stomach tensed to counterbalance the weight above his head. Peter turned back to his work, determined to get a few more pages done before Neal distracted him again.

"Peter, " Neal whispered, after a time, soft and desperate. "Peter, please."

Peter looked up to see Neal with his hands trembling inches above his head.

"Count to ten." Peter watched as Neal struggled to hold position while he counted off the seconds. "Good. Down." Neal's hands dropped and dangled limply at the ends of the chains.

"Now, get me a beer."

Neal hobbled off, trying to keep the chains from making too much noise as they clattered across the tile floor. When he came back, he neatly dropped to his knees and held the bottle out for Peter, but dropped his hands the moment Peter had taken the bottle.

Peter snapped his fingers to get Neal's attention. "Hands." Once Neal had managed to lift them again, he grabbed at one of Neal's hands, and used the edge of the cuff to pop the top off the beer. He took a swig, then placed it back into Neal's palm.

"Hold, like that, until I'm done." He relented slightly when he saw the panic in Neal's eyes. With the extra weight he wouldn't last long, but he'd try until the beer spilled, and that wasn't what Peter wanted. "You can do whatever you need to do to keep the beer in place." That should be enough. Neal shifted around so he could rest his arm on his knee, and braced it with the other hand. That'd do fine. Peter tried to concentrate on his work again.

Neal was breathing heavily, in careful controlled breaths when Peter signed off on the last report, but the beer was still where it was supposed to be. Peter held the bottle to Neal's mouth and gave him the last slug as a reward.

"On your knees. Arms out."

"Please, Peter, I can't." Even as he protested, Neal rolled up to his knees, but then he just stared at his hands in his lap.

"Out." Peter growled. He grabbed the chains to pull Neal's arms into position. Neal whimpered when he let go, but didn't drop his arms.

"What have you learned today?"

"That punishments aren't supposed to be pleasant."

"Exactly." Peter dropped a set of picks in front of Neal, and sat back. "If you can't get those picked in 90 seconds, they'll stay on for the night. Go."

Peter didn't expect that Neal would be able to pick the locks. With his muscles exhausted and trembling, his fingers were clumsy and he'd be hard pressed to have hands steady enough.

"Time." Peter called and collected the picks as Neal slumped back to sit on his heels, looking defeated. Peter stared down at Neal. "Stand up."

Neal laboriously climbed to his feet, and attempted to stand tall and steady despite the fine tremors running through his muscles. Peter slowly circled Neal, watching closely for the small tells, the flickers of expression and tension in his body, that Neal was trying to hide.

"Hands and knees." Neal dropped down with a huff, just on the edge of insubordination. Peter sent him off with a kick to his ass. "Wait in the hall upstairs."

Neal went. Peter watched him crawl carefully up the stairs before quickly gathering the spread of files on the table.

Neal was kneeling at the top of the staircase with his palms pressed to the ground, watching Elizabeth head into the bedroom with a smile on his face.

"One more thing, Neal." The smile turned to wariness. Peter held out the stack of files from the table. "These are the files that you _didn't _finish today. Hold them out as long as you can. 15 seconds, you're on our floor, 30 seconds, you're in your room, and if you manage 1 minute, you're in with us."

Neal's eyes narrowed and Peter grinned. He knew it was mean; Neal would rather be on the mattress on their floor than in his own room, but he'd much prefer being in their bed. Neal shook out his arms with a clatter of chain, then reached for the files with a determined look.

Neal wavered just before the 15 second mark, tempted, Peter suspected, to take the guaranteed spot on their floor instead of risking his own room. By 30 seconds, he was concentrating hard, trying to shift the weight to different muscles. He managed a minute, just barely. When Peter called the time, Neal dropped the stack with a thump. Peter knew that Neal wasn't going to be able to do anything tomorrow without feeling the pain of strained muscles, but Neal beamed up at Peter, eyes bright with his success. "Your room?"

"Our room," Peter confirmed, feeling a smile tug at his lips. "Do you need anything else?" Neal shook his head, leaned happily into Peter's side when Peter tugged him to his feet. "Come on, then. Elizabeth's waiting."


End file.
